


Who Fell From Grace, Raptured Once More

by jxkuzure



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Murder Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-23
Updated: 2014-09-23
Packaged: 2018-02-18 11:17:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2346500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jxkuzure/pseuds/jxkuzure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Those who fell, regained their crippled wings, and flew once more--Will Graham has been raptured by the eerie light of Hannibal's haven.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who Fell From Grace, Raptured Once More

**Author's Note:**

> //Written to pass time  
> //Inspired by Evans Blue album; Graveyard of Empires  
> //https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eyqYHYZB-ao
> 
> Dark!Will should be more common in this fandom.
> 
> ///I hopefully got the Icarus story correct...I had only remembered it from memory and my description of Will and Abigail as Icarus and Daedalus is the bastardization of my thoughts..
> 
> //Might add more later//
> 
> //I still need a writing partner ;-;

**_Who Fell From Grace, Raptured Once More_ **

Will Graham & Abigail Hobbs

Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter

Dark!Will

 

 _Cast your stones on me_  
You're the death of a million men  
You're the face we defend  
With a patient virtue

**_"Alone Not Lonely"_  --- Evans Blue**

 

 

Ghostly cold fingers slide down her flesh as she laid in her bed of leaves--cobalt eyes lifeless staring at the moon looming overhead. Limbs tattered into fleshy shreds, face nearly ripped from her skull--How grotesque she must look.

Will sat in the clearing with the hunting knife still in hand, his dark curls drenched from the previous downpour, and grey trench coat pulled around his body tightly. He didn't regret the kill nor what his kill was--a young girl who trusted him more than her father. She shouldn't have trusted him or adore him, he was nothing more but a cauldron of bubbling black liquid.

Abigail was like Icarus and he was Daedalus--he told his young dove to fly off into the sun. She did her flight and the sun above seared her wings and casted her back down to the deep waters below. He did not mourn or cry out in anger, instead, he rejoiced as the burning feathers casted down to earth. Will crafted her wings and warned her of those fiery nymphs who owned the sky above yet she did not abide by that rule.

The sound of boots crunching into dry leaves made Will look over his shoulder, light blue eyes lidded dark from the kill. He knew this dark enigma of a figure--boiling red eyes more like a cavern of magma as they seared out the darkness. Ashen hair, richly tailored attire, and lips curved into a smile-- _Dr. Hannibal Lecter_.

Will held his affections for the psychiatrist deeply and almost obsessively--killing Abigail was only a show of adoration on a bloodier level. Hannibal looked content with the work Will left in the forest clearing, approaching the profiler and wrapping himself against Will in a tight embrace. Will smelled the exotic fragrance of orchid and spice and seethed warmly, his cheek resting on Hannibal's shoulder as the knife in his other hand dropped into the undergrowth.

"You've done well, Will. I am very pleased with your design.", Hannibal whispered softly.

Will nearly melted in his skin once he heard the phrase, clinging to Dr. Lecter tighter and more eager to please. Abigail hadn't been the first or the last, Will had to itch to kill whenever the blood soaked his skin sanguine. It thrilled his dark instincts further and with his empathy disorder, nearly made it heavenly.

Hannibal caressed Will a little longer before breaking apart, taking note on how much blood had drenched through Will's trench coat. Little to none except for the blood on his gloved hands, Hannibal also took note on the state of his empath. Dark blue eyes wide in eagerness, body trembling in excitement, and face lit up with a crooked smile. He molded this perfect creature in front of him. This relentless, capable, and emotionless killer--Hannibal's own imperfect design.

Will still had time to flourish into his new skin made of ash and blood but Hannibal could spare the time and bodies.

"Hannibal...", Will coos softly before sinking down on his knees, those dark orbs lowering to the ground.

Silence between parties once Hannibal looked down at Will, sanguine eyes brighter as the moon shifted across the midnight sky. There was no words exchanged, they've done this many times.

Will pulled Hannibal closer with his fumbling hands and held him near, his face pressed against clothed thighs as he uttered the same chant after every hunt.

 _This is my design_.

Fingers carefully pull down a zipper and pull undergarments, warm lips touch heated flesh, and only a soft moan into the open night sky.

 _This is our design_.

**Author's Note:**

> I have not forgotten about 'Through the Iris', I kinda got stuck and writing other stuff.
> 
> //A Moth in A Lamp is being rewritten as well...
> 
>  
> 
> [My Tumblr](http://muse-and-reality.tumblr.com/)


End file.
